


Sally Donovan

by asteropes



Series: Winged and Wingless [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wings, Character Analysis, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asteropes/pseuds/asteropes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally Donovan is Wingless. She always has been; always will be one of those people that will never be able to spout a pair of feathered limbs; she will never be able to feel utter weightlessness; she will never have the opportunity to feel the complete loyalty in someone when they press wings to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sally Donovan

Sally Donovan is Wingless. She always has been; always will be one of those people that will never be able to spout a pair of feathered limbs; she will never be able to feel utter weightlessness; she will never have the opportunity to feel the complete loyalty in someone when they press wings to each other.

She's fifteen, and there are two girls in her class - complete opposites if there ever were a pair - and their wings have just settled. One is a hummingbird, a beautiful blue-green sheen reflecting off her feathers. The other is a crow - a grey in the middle, fading into a deeper tone of the same colour. The two of them spend so much time around each other and it's obvious that the two of them are sisters, even if they're not related. And Sally is jealous of them; oh-so jealous. Both of them are winged and both of their wings are beautiful and-

It's after a history lesson; they've been learning about Roman times, where only 'savages' were winged; Celts and Vikings, and even then it was rare. Sally is stood behind them, and the two of them are packing their things up and the teacher dismisses them and their wings brush and the two of them smile, a completely trusting smile, and people stare but the two of them don't care because they walk out of that classroom, wings firmly pressed against each other.

It makes Sally realise. Wing touching is less of a 'sex' thing; it's more of a 'i trust you completely; you are my soulmate'. It also makes Sally realise that there is more than one type of soulmate. There are best friends, and siblings, and people that are destined to be together forever. And these two - well, no matter what happens to them, they are going to be best friends. ** **  
****

And Sally wishes she had wings; wishes she could prove that she trusts someone enough to let them touch her wings.

* * *

 ****She wonders what they'd be like, her wings. Would they be blue and brilliant and bright? A cold, lonely grey? Or would her wings be tiny; would she be unable to fly with them?

Sally will never have them. So she'll never know.

* * *

Then she meets Sherlock Holmes, who's wings are the darkest she's ever seen, and needless to say she's been in the MET for three years so she has met quite a lot of people. He flaps around, brilliant blue-black following him like a shadow, and Sally wonders what could have happened to him to make his wings go this dark. Must've been one hell of an experience.

She takes the piss out of him for it - most Winged are quite happy, after all, but Sherlock Holmes with the wild curls and the pale skin and the disconcerting eyes; well, he doesn't smile, or laugh, or even do anything.

He just looks at her.

She can see it in his eyes; he's analyzing her, working her out. His eyes flicker over his tights-covered knees, and then glances at Anderson, and then cocks an eyebrow at her.

 _Really?_ he asks her, just through an expression. And then he spreads out his wings as far as they will go, which, really is a long way, and jumps into the air and flaps away.

Sally wished she had wings so she could at least brush him off.

* * *

One day, Freak doesn't fly in. He arrives in a cab, which leaves Sally wondering how rich he is, considering he can afford a cab. In London.

And then there's Watson.

He looks - reliable. Sturdy. The sort of man, that, if Sally got a choice, she would choose to come onto a crime scene with her. He's a reassuring presence in place of the maelstrom that is Sherlock Holmes. He bends down onto the body and Sally notices lumps on his back - could be wings, but then, could just be where his wings have been cut off; it's happened before, after all, and wing cancer isn't exactly rare.

She doesn't get time to talk to him any more as he walks away after that, and Sally doesn't try again.

* * *

Wings.

Beautiful, brilliant, white wings are coming out of John Watson's back. She stares openly and he shifts them restlessly, obviously not used to them being stared at. And then, offhandedly, he brushes wings with Sherlock and they exchange a smile and a breath catches in Sally's chest.

Brilliant white against darkest blue. Frankly, it's beautiful. And she realises that these two are soul-mates, despite the fact one is Winged and the other wishes he weren't. She thinks about it for a moment; being Winged must have caused John Watson so many problems, if he hid them all the time. And that colour...

She glances over at Anderson, who is leering at her, and a bitter taste emerges in her mouth. She splits up with him, right then and there, and doesn't speak to him again. It's satisfying, to say the least.

* * *

Sally Donovan may be Wingless, but that doesn't make her less important as someone who is Winged.

(And she dreams of midnight blue feathers mingling with white, rustling against each other, and realises that at least in her dreams she has them.)


End file.
